


Triade - Prelude to a Happy End

by bev_crusher1971



Category: Smallville
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drunken Amnesia, Drunken Confessions, Drunken sex, Hangover, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23649154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bev_crusher1971/pseuds/bev_crusher1971
Summary: Clark wakes up and where his brain used to be there is suddenly a big gaping hole … will Lex be able to help him regain his memory?
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, Clark Kent/Oliver Queen, Clerk Kent/Lex Luthor/Oliver Queen
Kudos: 37





	Triade - Prelude to a Happy End

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one of my stories that I now transfer from LJ to AO3. 
> 
> It ws original written in 2009. Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Also ... I KNOW I had a beta back then but I honestly can't remember any more who it was. So thank you anyways for whoever did it, and I'm so sorry that I forgot you.

Clark moaned when the sunlight met his eyes and burned straight through to his brain.

Oh God.

He turned his head slightly to the other side, trying to escape the bright sunlight which was hurting his head so badly. What the hell had happened last night? He clearly remembered going out with Jeff, a friend from college. He also remembered rather clearly meeting Lex somewhere along their way through various bars. After his fourth – or had it been his fifth? Sixth? - cocktail things got a little fuzzy.

Lex had decided to join them on their way to get shitfaced drunk. And when had that started to be their goal of the night?

He vaguely recalled meeting Oliver. They did, didn't they? Yes, he was sure they'd met him. More or less. And he joined them too.

Somehow they lost Jeff around two in the morning. He guessed. It could have been earlier. Or later.

He groaned when another memory crept up. The memory of him leaning heavily on Lex's shoulder, announcing with something like pride in his voice that he was gay, yessir, and no way was he ashamed of preferring cock over pussy. He tried to hide his face in his pillow, wondering how he'd ever be able to look Lex in the face again. Or Oliver for that matter, for he was as sure as he could be in his debilitated state that Oliver had been close behind him, resting one hand on his lower back, laughing heartily.

„I think he's ready to join the land of the living again,“ He suddenly heard an amused voice coming from just above him.

Lex.

Clark slowly raised his head, and winced in pain. He could make out the vague form of Lex, sitting next to him on the bed. No, wait. He wasn't sitting. He was lying next to him, sharing his blanket.

Sharing his blanket. Very, very closely.

He was sure that he was still asleep, and this had to be dream. A really good one, for no way was Lex Luthor laying next to him in reality, under his blanket. Which wasn't his blanket at all. Because this didn't *feel* like his blanket. And if he turned his head a little, he could see that the bed he was in wasn't his bed either. Nor was he in his room and at this point he was fairly certain that it wasn't even his house.

Darn.

His first black-out from drinking, and he promptly landed in another bed. Lucky for him he didn't live at home anymore, so his mom wouldn't panic just because he didn't come home last night. Also lucky for him, he seemed to be at Lex's place which reduced the humiliation to a minimum.

He closed his eyes. „Go away, Lex. Go away and let me die,“ he mumbled, and turned around. And bumped into another warm body. A hard body. A definitely male body. He opened his eyes again, jerked back, bumping on his retreat into Lex. Causing him to jump forward again, and finally he simply fled out of the bed, ignoring the thundering in his head, and stared at the two men in his bed … no, Lex's bed.

He stared at Lex.

And at Oliver who was propped up on one elbow, smirking. His eyes moved from Lex to Oliver and back.

„Okay,“ he said slowly, „what the hell is going on here?“

Oliver's smirk slowly vanished, and he sat up. „Are you telling me you don't remember?“ he asked, a hint of hurt in his voice.

Clark narrowed his eyes suspiciously. „Remember what?“

Oliver turned to Lex, this time the dissappointment obvious. „He doesn't remember. You said he wasn't so drunk that he wouldn't remember.“

Lex shrugged casually. „Seems as if I was wrong.“

Clark sighed loudly. „Remember what?“ he asked again, this time a little louder.

Oliver knelt up, moving slowly over to Lex, kissing his shoulder, and glanced over at Clark, a smoldering expression in his eyes. „What we did last night,“ he purred, and Clark could feel himself grow pale.

„Last … night?“ he managed to press out, moving back even more until he felt the wall on his back.

Lex and Oliver changed some meaningful looks before Lex burst out laughing. „Oh god, Clark … sometimes it's just too easy.“

He got up, revealing – thankfully – a pair of black silken boxers. Clark let his own breath out. Apparently, nothing had happened between them. A warm hand descended down on his shoulder, and Clark looked into Lex's smiling blue eyes.

„Nothing happened last night, Clark. We were all much too drunk to even try anything. Though I have to admit, you made some interesting suggestions while we undressed you. Some of them made even Ollie over there blush. And that was something I never thought I'd see again.“

Clark swallowed. Suggestions? That made Oliver blush?

„I … I did?“ he stumbled, and Lex nodded.

Then he moved closer, brought his mouth close to Clark's ear, and whispered, „You wanted me to undress him slowly first. After that you talked about kissing and licking him all over, making him gasp and moan. You wanted to suck his brain out through his dick.“

Clark shivered, and involuntarily his eyes darted over to Oliver who still sat in bed, and remained quiet while Lex continued.

„You wanted to watch while I fuck him. Wanted to suck me afterwards and wanted me to come in your mouth.“ Lex breathed a little kiss on Clark's neck. Suddenly he moved back, appearing to be uninterested. „But as I said … we were much too drunk. Couldn't get it up. We didn't even try. Didn't want to embarrass us,“ he confessed with a smile.

„But now that we're sober ...“ came Oliver's voice from the bed, and Clark's head flew around, staring at him in something close to horror. „ … now that we're sober, I think I should go.“ Ollie got up, still smiling. With relief, Clark noticed that Oliver, too, wore boxers, and he could feel his shoulders slump a bit.

He watched him dress, and waved a tired good-bye. But then, when he was already at the door, Oliver suddenly turned around and came back. Grasping Clark's head gently between his hands, he gave him a deep, dirty kiss, making him breathless and weak-kneed, and murmured against his mouth, „Call me when you remember again, okay?“

Clark nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence. And did Lex just growl or was that just another figment of his imagination?

Finally, Oliver left.

Leaving behind Lex, Clark, and an uncomfortable silence.

„You want to shower?“ Lex's voice broke the silence, startling Clark slightly. He raised his head, and smiled.

„Yeah, thanks.“

Lex motioned to the adjoining bathroom, and turned to the bedroom door. „I'll get you some towels and see if I can find some shampoo. Normally, I don't have any use for stuff like that.“ With a smile he ran his hand over his bald head, winking at Clark before he opened the door, and closed it again behind him silently.

Clark was alone.

Alone with his thoughts, with his knees still shaking from Oliver's kiss, and with his dick slightly stirring from Lex's wink. Jesus, what was wrong with him? Lusting after Lex was one thing. They've known each other long enough now for Clark to be sure that he had certain feelings for him.

But, Oliver?

Sure, he was hot.

And rich.

And hot.

And nice which was definitely a plus. And … yeah, he was a damned good kisser. Involuntarily, Clark touched his lips, and smiled.

~*~

Lex heard the shower running when he returned to his bedroom. His mood had turned from ecstatic this morning at waking up with Clark and Ollie in his bed to sour because Clark couldn't remember a damn thing they'd done last night.

Lucky for him – or better for both Ollie and him – they had decided to put their boxers back on. Because yes, he had seen the relief in Clark's eyes at the sight of their underwear.

That he himself hadn't been wearing any didn't seem to register at that point.

He opened the bathroom door a little bit and saw the silhouette of Clark in his shower stall. Normally, after a night like that, he'd climb in with his lover. Enjoy the hot water and the even hotter skin of the other man. Spread soap all over that amazing body, lick the water droplets from those absurdly broad shoulders, and finally, after stroking each other to get hard and ready, he would turn around so his lover could fuck him hard and deep.

This morning was different, though. Didn't Clark remember something? Anything? He'd been so passionate last night. Kissing them with an almost bruising hunger. Not holding back. Telling them that they were driving him crazy. Especially Lex, with his smooth, hairless skin. So fucking beautiful. Clark's words, not his, Lex's. For the first time in many, many years Lex had taken those words as a compliment and hadn't flinched in embarrassment. Not when Clark's big hands had treated him with so much care, as if he was something fragile. Something that could easily break if he wasn't careful enough.

Between two rounds of love-making, while Ollie'd tried to recover some braincells after shooting most of them out through his dick – again, not Lex's words – Clark had gazed at them, in his eyes the happy sparkle of a drunk, and had announced that he was so glad to have finally come out because, for him as an alien, it was much easier to make love to men instead of women, and to be honest, Lana was getting seriously on his nerves with her constant whining and moaning about her dead parents. And before either of them had had a chance to recover from this big news – the alien part, not the Lana-part for that was pretty much a given – Clark had turned to Lex, to kiss him again. A slow, sensual kiss, one that had short-circuited Lex's brain within milliseconds, and had made him moan helplessly in his alien lover's mouth.

He'd come embarrassingly fast – considering this was round three, and he'd always thought of himself as a very potent lover. But the knowledge that the gorgeous creature in his bed wasn't human had been doing wonders for him.

When Clark had entered him, sometime around five in the morning, and Ollie had blown him once more, he'd had the slight fear in the back of his mind that his dick might actually fall off if they didn't stop now.

He'd come again. It'd been slow, almost painfully so, and he'd begged Clark with a hoarse voice to stop. Which Clark had done. To be precise, he'd dropped off to sleep as soon as his own dick had stopped spurting his load into Lex. Lex had to shake him off, and Ollie'd laughed softly. „Jesus, he's out. You think he'll remember everything we did tonight?“

Lex'd yawned. „Of course. Spaceboy here never forgets a thing.“

His boxers had hit him in the face, and he'd frowned. „Put them on,“ Ollie had said, „just in case.“

How Lex hated it when Oliver fucking Queen was right.

~*~

The shower was hot. Clark didn't feel it but he could guess it by the steam billowing around him. The waterpressure on his skin was heavenly, and for a moment he wished that Lex could be here to enjoy this with him. When he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the smooth skin under his hands again, softly sprinkled with light freckles.

God, he was gone. SO gone. He'd had one night with the man he'd desired for so long and then he couldn't remember it. His eyes snapped open. Wait.

Freckles?

He'd never seen Lex's back up close and personal before, so how did he suddenly know that his pale skin was covered in a light sheet of freckles?

'Because you remember,' a little voice in his head whispered. He remembered. Just little pieces. Fragments. Small bits. The biggest part – namely the how did he get here and when did they decide it in the first place, and most important of all: what the hell had happened *really*? – was still mostly in the dark.

A knock on the bathroom door startled him slightly. He opened the showerstall and called over the noise of the pouring water, „Come in, Lex.“

The door was opened a bit, then a hand appeared, followed by an outstretched arm. „Here's the shampoo,“ Lex announced loudly.

Clark sighed. „Lex, you can come in, you know? This is your bathroom after all. And I can't reach the shampoo when you're at the other end of the room.“

Now the door was carefully pushed open, and Lex walked in. His eyes were instantly drawn to the showerstall. Clark hadn't closed it, and Lex was staring directly at his most private parts. Parts that started to take noticable interest.

Lex gasped, and with something like admiration in his voice, Lex simply asked, „God, Clark … again?“

~*~

Lex saw how Clark's eyes widened almost comically, and groaned. Oh, hell. Where had that come from? It had been a reflex. He'd seen Clark's cock stir slightly, and those words had simply tumbled out. He stared helplessly after them, wanting nothing more than to pick them out of the air and shove them back into his mouth. But he couldn't.

He could just stand there under Clark's wide-eyed impression of a deer in the headlights.

„What …“ Clark cleared his throat, and tried again, „what did you just say? What do you mean 'again'?“

For the first time in his life Lex didn't know what to say. He simply stood there, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

„Lex?“

Clark shut the shower off, and carefully climbed out of it. He wrapped a towel carelessly around his waist, and came closer.

Everything in Lex screamed at him to make some lame-ass comment, to think of a way out. He shouldn't just stand there and wait for the inevitable to happen. Maybe the lack of caffeine so early in the morning after the previous night was blocking his rational thinking.

„Lex? What happened last night? The truth, please!“

Lex finally was able to tear his gaze away from Clark, and turned to the door. „I need coffee,“ he mumbled.

„Lex!“ The voice was stronger now, almost demanding. And a shudder ran over Lex's skin as he remembered last night when Clark had used the same tone to tell Oliver to lick Lex's come off of his belly. Involuntarily, a moan escaped him. He closed his eyes, and pressed his fists against his closed eyes, as if he could make the images go away.

„Clark, please,“ he whispered, „don't … don't ask if you can't handle it.“

„Lex!“ Just his name, but the voice was like steel. Lex swallowed. Then a hand on his shoulder, startling him because he hadn't heard Clark come closer. „I can handle it. What I can't handle is this not – knowing. These little … flashes … the glimpses of images, and not being able to tell if they truly happened or if they're just wishful thinking.“

The last words made Lex listen up. „Wishful thinking?“

Blush. Lex smirked. Glad to see that his farmboy seemed to be back, replacing a little bit the sex-starved man they'd had in bed last night. Lex had been crazy about a lustful Clark, but he loved the innocent farmboy.

Then some of Clark's whispered words from last night came back to him, and he wondered if Clark would really recognize them as his own or if he'd think Lex was simply bragging or something. So he turned around, and said, „Maybe you should talk to Ollie. He seems to have a better recollection of last night's events.“

With those words, Lex left the bathroom, almost fled. He knew that he was taking the coward's way out ... the first time ever since he met Clark Kent, but he couldn't tell Clark about last night. If the younger man wanted to talk about it when Ollie had filled him in on all the details, he'd be there and they'd discuss it. Until then, Lex decided to hide in his office.

And wait.

~*~

„Mr Queen?“

The voice of Leah, his secretary, came out of the little box on Oliver's desk, and without taking the blissfully cool washcloth from his eyes, he fumbled for the answer button pressed it, and mumbled, „Yeah, Leah?“

„You have a visitor, Sir. A Mr Kent is here to talk to you. He says it's important.“

Oliver sat up slowly. Clark? Hm. That was unexpected. „Send him in, Leah. And bring me more coffee.“

„Of course, Mr Queen, Sir.“

Oliver sighed. She'd been working for him for over five years now, and she was still afraid to look higher than his adam's apple.

The door opened, and Clark burst in, Leah on his heels. There really was no other word for it. And for a single moment, Oliver saw the same fire he had seen last night in the younger man. His dark hair was wind-tousled, reminding Oliver of how often he'd run his hands through those silky locks last night. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and it made Oliver think of how Clark looked when he came. His mouth a little bit opened, his eyes closed, his cheeks flushed.

„What the hell happened last night to make Lex send me to you rather than tell me about it himself?“

„And again … a wonderful good morning to you, Clark. Oh look … there's the coffee.“

His eyes told Clark in no uncertain terms that there were some things that Oliver would *not* discuss in front of his secretary. With not quite steady hands, Leah put the coffee down, and left. Almost fled the room.

Silently, Oliver poured them both a cup of coffee, added some milk and sugar, handed one to Clark, and leaned back in his chair.

„So,“ he said after a moment, „Lex is taking the coward's way out I see.“

Clark took a sip of his coffee, and moaned in appreciation. It was a sound that went straight to Oliver's lower regions, making him almost wince in pain.

„Don't do that, Clark,“ he said quietly. „Don't make such a noise .. you don't know what it does to me.“

Clark looked up. Then a frown flitted over his face, and he put the coffee down. „Okay, what is it? What happened?“

Another sip from his coffee, and Oliver gazed at Clark. Then he said, „What do you remember?“

~*~

That was the million dollar question, right? Because what he remembered would probably fit on a stamp. What he *didn't* remember though … that could fill books.

Oliver seemed to sense this, for he rephrased his question. „What's the last thing you remember clearly?“

„Lex was ordering Caipirinhas for all of us.“ Clark frowned, tried to gather those last clear memories. „We were at a place called … 'Yellow Horse'?“

Oliver smiled. „Yellow Rose. It's a pretty famous gay club.“

A gay club, huh? Well, apparently Clark didn't have to worry about coming out anymore. At least not to Lex and Oliver. And after last night – whatever might have happened – it was pretty apparent that they had no problem with him being gay.

„What happened then?“ Clark asked. He wasn't quite sure he *wanted* to know, but he figured he really needed to know. Oliver looked at him for a long moment. Quietly. Then he sighed deeply.

„We went to three more bars after that. In the first, you kissed Lex, after your fifth cocktail of the night. In the second, you kissed me, telling us you were gay and that you preferred cock over pussy.“ Clark winced, and Oliver grinned. „Your words, loverboy, not mine.“

He then continued. „In the third – and our last – bar you kissed both of us, said you wanted to fuck us blind, and after doing exactly that you finally confided in us that you were an alien.“

Clark could feel the blood rush from his face. It took him three tries until he brought out the words, „What?“

„You said that you wanted to fuck us …“

„Nonono,“ Clark interrupted quickly, „not that. I said I … I … I'm ...“

Oliver got up, stepped around his desk, and knelt down in front of Clark. „You let us in on your secret. Told us that you weren't exactly from around here. And we were extremely proud and also a little flattered that you told us.“

He leaned a bit forward, and pressed a soft kiss to Clark's mouth. Clark was too surprised to do anything other than simply react, kissing Oliver back.

„Then we drove to Lex's appartement, and made love.“

„Made love?“ Clark hated how his voice sounded almost squeaky. Oliver nodded.

„The whole night.“

„The whole night!“

Again Oliver nodded. Groaning, Clark buried his head in his hands. „I'm sorry,“ he said muffled.

„For what?“

Clark could hear the honest surprise in Oliver's voice. He cast a quick glance at him through his fingers. „For … everything? I'm not used to drinking and I guess somewhere along the line I must have lost my … my ...“

Yes. What *had* he lost? His education? His good taste? His common sense?

„... my logical thinking,“ he finished lamely. He had lost his rationality. Had told somebody his secret. And for one single moment he was almost glad that his dad was already dead. Hearing this would've sure as hell killed him.

„So … are you telling me you didn't mean what you said last night?“ Oliver asked him, slowly moving back until he sat on his heels.

„Depends,“ Clark answered, not exactly sure what Oliver wanted to hear right now.

„On what?“

„On what it was. Apparently I said a lot of things last night.“

Oliver smiled a little. „Yeah. Yeah, you did.“ He got up, went back to his desk and grabbed his coffee. Then he rested casually on one corner of his desk. „As I told you already, we went back to Lex's appartement where we fell in bed. We kissed, and touched, and after a few minutes you sucked me off.“

Clark flushed brightly. Hearing this was like listening to some high-grade porn. With him in the leading role.

„Lex was watching us,“ Oliver continued. His voice was getting a little huskier now, making it sound like every word was a caress. „He got so hard watching you with those sinful lips wrapped around my cock. He began to stroke your back, and you started to purr.“

„I don't purr,“ Clark protested weakly. „Do I?“

Oliver's smile got a little dreamy. „Oh you do, spaceboy. You definitely do. But the interesting thing was that the purring made Lex wild. He was kissing your back, your shoulders, every place he could reach. You,“ for a moment Oliver seemed to be a bit embarrassed, „you made me come so fast it was almost like I was fifteen again. Lex saw you. Watched you. Saw how you … how you swallowed my cum, and before you could swallow it all, he turned you around and kissed you. Then you sucked him off. He came even faster than I did.“

Clark had to grin a little because now Oliver sounded definitely smug. Okay. So maybe last night hadn't been *that* embarrassing. As long as he hadn't told Lex about his feelings … everything was peachy, right? All that sucking and licking and kissing … he'd been drunk and horny. So what? But he listened nonetheless as Oliver continued.

„After finishing Lex off, you sat up, smiling like a cat that not only got the cream but the canary also. Then you said … you said Lex tasted better than me. Or maybe that might be because though you really liked me you were in love with Lex. Again … your words. I have to admit it hurt at first. A bit.“ Oliver smiled to take the edge off the words. But Clark could see in his eyes that there was a tiny bit of truth in it. „But then Lex said that it was amazing because he loved you too. After that … I was mostly watching. Because suddenly you were calling all the shots.“

Oliver moved closer again. „It was so hot watching you go all alpha. You were ordering Lex around. Telling him to suck me off while you fucked him. And later - when he came all over his stomach - you told me to lick it off. And I did. Because it was such an incredible turn on.“

Hot breath in his ear. It made Clark shiver. Made Clark think of smooth skin under his fingertips. Of strong hands holding him down. Of his hard cock driving into a warm, willing body, moaning in ecstasy. And beg. And gasp. He jumped up.

Lex loved him?

„Did he really say that?“ he asked Oliver, not caring that his voice had a desperate edge.

Oliver nodded. „He did. And I guess that's the reason he sent you to me to tell you about the night. Hearing it from him might have made you doubt it.“

„You're right,“ Clark answered, nibbling on his lower lip, completely lost in thought. A sigh made him look up. Oliver was staring at his mouth.

„Don't do that, Clark,“ the other man said. This time it was him with desperation apparent in his voice. „You did that last night while contemplating who to fuck first. Seeing that makes me … well,“ he gestured down to his crotch where Clark could see the outline of a hard cock under Oliver's soft pants.

He swallowed. Then he nibbled again on his lower lip, this time deliberatly, never letting Oliver out of sight. The other man groaned, an almost painful sound, got up from the desk, and grabbed Clark by the shoulders. He gave him a hard, fast kiss, and then he spun him around, nearly shoving him out of his office.

„Go! Go, Clark, and torment Lex with the whole nibbling thing. He practically ripped off his clothes last night to be the first one. Go to him, because Heaven knows if you don't go right now I can't be held responsible for what might happen.“

For a moment Clark didn't know what to say, then he kissed Oliver, and before the older man could even think about reciprocating, Clark was gone. The door was still swinging softly in the breeze created by his passage.

Clark didn't know that Oliver stared at the open door for long minutes after he was gone. Didn't see the sad little smile on the other man's face. Didn't see the way he slumped into his chair, putting the washcloth over his eyes with one hand, while he adjusted his hard-on with the other.

~*~

Lex was on his way back to Smallville, pushing the sleek Porsche to its limits. The top of the convertible was open, and he enjoyed the wind in his face, and the sun on his skin. Last night kept repeating itself in his head again and again.

Clark kissing him. Loving him. Murmuring words of endearment. Shouting out in plain, obvious lust. God, how he wished that Clark would remember. He wondered what Oliver would tell him. If he would tell him everything. Or if he would cut down on certain things to spare Lex some humiliation. Or if he would remain silent about certain things Lex had said so he, Oliver, would have a chance at being with Clark. Suddenly there was a nagging doubt that it had been a mistake to send Clark to Oliver. Maybe he himself should have told him about last night's events. Should have told him that he had confessed his love for the older man, and that his love was reciprocated.

In the distance he saw a lone figure standing at the side of the street. As he came closer, he saw that the figure was holding out his hand. A hitchhiker. Lex stepped on the gas. He never let hitchhikers in his car.

But then he noticed something familiar about the figure. The size, the posture, and before he could rationally think about it, his right foot was hitting the brake.

Hard.

With squealing tires the car came to a halt, directly in front of Clark Kent. Clark smiled down at Lex, and Lex tried his best to smile back. He took off his sunglasses to see him better, cleared his throat, and asked, „Need a ride?“

Clark nodded, jumped in the car, and just as Lex was about to ask where exactly Clark was heading to, the younger man leaned over, closed the gap between them, and kissed him. There was nothing hesitant in the kiss. Nothing awkward, nothing shy, and Lex lost himself in that kiss.

It seemed an eternity later when Clark finally pulled back a little, giving Lex space to breath, space to think.

„Where do you want to go?“ Lex asked, all the while looking deeply into Clark's eyes.

„Home,“ the young man whispered, „home with you.“

Lex could feel himself grinning like a loon, but right now he didn't care. He put his sunglasses back on, put the car in motion, and grabbed Clark's hand.

„Home it is then,“ he said, feeling ridiculously happy, „home it is.“

The end


End file.
